


Miles To Go

by Crewe



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2016-10-04
Packaged: 2018-08-19 13:17:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8209957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crewe/pseuds/Crewe
Summary: After a grueling battle, Vox Machina is hours away from the nearest cleric racing to get an unconscious Keyleth to Pike before poison takes its toll.
Scanlan is hiding an injury to keep attention on Keyleth.
It's maybe a little worse than he expected.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is some vaguely non-canon timeline, so just don't... think about that bit.

Scanlan was starting to think he might be in trouble.

 

Well, in one sense at least, they were _out_ of trouble. They’d managed to scrape together a victory against the demon holding the region hostage, which was pretty great, A+, go team, but there were just a few problems left:

 

One, Keyleth was still unconscious and poisoned pretty badly;

 

Two, they were all completely tapped out of healing resources from the grueling battle, and Pike was back in Westruun;

 

Three, they were about a day’s travel from the city and it was edging towards noon after a few hours of walking;

 

And four, Scanlan was becoming increasingly certain that his leg was infected.

 

He wasn’t sure if anyone had even seen him catch that final blow to his thigh, or at least had noticed just how severe it had been. He had wrapped it tightly in bandages as soon as the demon had fallen, and his billowing pantaloons prevented any blood leakage from showing, but mother of _fuck_ did it hurt. He had been steadily falling behind the party as they trekked on and it was becoming increasingly harder for him to walk steadily, and he could _feel_ the heat coming off his leg just from swinging his arm at his side.

 

He needed to rest and clean his wound and possibly eat some chicken but he couldn’t yet. Vax had wanted to take his sister’s broom and Keyleth and shoot off for Westruun on his own, but that plan had quickly been veto’d—one bad encounter with the less friendly denizens of the plains and he was done for. When they were all this tired, safety in numbers was really all they had.

 

This, unfortunately, left no time for them to rest and take care of their own wounds. There was just no telling how severe Keyleth had been poisoned, and no one was willing to gamble with her life. No one had even suggested resting for longer than it took to stop them all from bleeding out before setting off.

 

Of course, Vax is an idiot and a sap, so he still insisted on carrying Keyleth on the broom; but Vex had tied a leash to it to prevent him from going off too far.

 

Scanlan glanced up from watching where he was stepping carefully—if he fell down he wasn’t entirely sure he would be able to get back up—to notice that he had fallen even further behind the group. Huffing in annoyance, he forced himself to pick up the pace—strumming his lute to mask the quiet grunts he couldn’t quite hold in every time his leg hit the ground.

 

Gods. They still had hours of this.

 

He took a deep breath and pressed on.

 

\--

 

Another hour passed and Scanlan was starting to feel a little woozy. He’d poured out the rest of his waterskin when he initially bandaged his leg, before he’d realized that they’d be walking back to Westruun. He dearly hoped he wouldn’t pass out. That would be entirely unbadass.

 

The great Scanlan Shorthalt, taken out by a _walk_.

 

He wasn’t sure how long it was until he stumbled and found himself held up by a hand the size of his head wrapped around his bicep. He blinked and looked up to find Grog squinting down at him.

 

“You all right, mate?” he asked gruffly. His eyebrows were drawn together in confusion. “You stopped playing your string hammer.”

 

It took a moment for Scanlan to comprehend and look down at where his lute was dangling soundlessly from one hand. Oh. When had he stopped?

 

“Scanlan?” There was an undercurrent of concern in Grog’s voice, which was never a good sign. Scanlan shook himself. Gotta keep it together.

 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just, ah, just a little tired. You can let go.”

 

Grog seemed to realize he was still bending over to hold the gnome’s arm and abruptly dropped it, but remained squinting down at him. “Right, okay… are you sure, mate? You look a little… not good. D’you need to sit down for a bit?”

 

Scanlan hastily waved his arms at him, gesturing frantically for him to be quiet. He glanced up at the rest of the party, but none of them seemed to have noticed their exchange. They all were focused on Keyleth, Percy and Vex standing on either side of the broom to make sure she didn’t fall off.

 

He looked back up at Grog and lowered his voice. “No, look, we don’t have time for that. We need to get Keyleth to Pike, and it’s already taking too long. Now c’mon, we gotta keep moving.”

 

He turned, took two steps forwards, and his leg abruptly gave out.

 

His quiet yelp was cut off as one meaty hand intercepted him before he could hit the ground. Grog lifted him back to his feet and gave him a stern look.

 

Scanlan idly thought he must have been studying Pike. It was a little hilarious.

 

“All right, look, mate—“

 

“No, Grog, we really need to keep moving—“

 

“Just, Scanlan, does your leg hurt?”

 

Scanlan made a face. It was so _obnoxious_ when Grog acted like a good friend while Scanlan was trying to get rid of him.

 

“It’s nothing, okay? It got me at the end there, but I’m fine. It just hurts a little to walk on. I can keep going.”

 

Grog gave him an inscrutable look—gods, he must be out of it if he can’t read _Grog_ —before abruptly grabbing him by the scruff and swinging him up off the ground. Scanlan just barely managed to stifle his surprised and indignant squawk before shoving at Grog’s chest and whispering furiously.

 

“Grog! What are you _doing_?”

 

Grog ignored him and sped up, before saying loudly, “Whelp! If you really want to nap, I guess I can carry you for a bit.”

 

Scanlan blinked uncomprehendingly for just a second before a wave of gratitude washed over him. He stretched and yawned theatrically before leaning back against one giant bicep. “Thanks, buddy, I really appreciate it.”

 

Through half-lidded eyes, he saw Percy rolling his eyes and shaking his head slightly, and caught Vex’s look of faint annoyance.  
  
“Yeah, sure, Scanlan, go ahead and nap. The rest of us’ll just keep… walking for hours, I guess.”

 

Vax looked over, one eyebrow raised. “If you want to carry someone, big man, why not, ah, the unconscious druid, huh?”

 

Grog shrugged, unconcerned. “Nah, looks like you’ve got her.”

 

Scanlan met Vax’s irritated glance with a wink before closing his eyes entirely and nestling into Grog’s arms as obnoxiously as he could. When he slit his eyes open a few seconds later, the rest of the party had already gone back to ignoring them.

 

He discretely squeezed Grog’s wrist in silent thanks, then shut his eyes again. Maybe just a little nap wouldn’t hurt. He _was_ pretty tired.

 

\--

 

He dreamt he was on a boat with Pike.

 

Gods, he’d missed her those six months she sailed the Ozmit Sea without them. She’d changed, out there with a crew of strangers on the _Broken Howl_. Sometimes, when Scanlan looked at her and saw something behind her eyes he didn’t recognize—something a little darker than Sarenrae’s light—he wished he’d gone aboard with her. Maybe he could have made her laugh a little more.

 

He hoped she’d laughed.

 

On the deck of this dark ship, Scanlan stood at the rail, looking out over a strange ocean. He’d never liked the ocean much. There was too much of it—Scanlan could stand on the beach and shout at it all he liked (and he was very good at shouting), but he’d always just be one little gnome beside one grand infinity.

 

He hated feeling small. He was Scanlan _motherfucking_ Shorthalt, Kingslayer, leader of Vox Machina, bard _extraordi-fucking-naire._ He was not _small_. He could fit in the palm of Grog’s hand and he would never be _small_.

 

Maybe it was a good thing he didn’t go with Pike. He would have withered away out there, shriveled up and blown away with the sea wind.

 

He shivered. Why was he on this ship? He didn’t want to be. He wanted to be in the air; he dreamed of an airship of his own, of stealing into the port in the dead of night to whisk one away, leave a calling card so the legend would grow, a deed that deserved to live on in stories, something that would survive long after he would—

 

He dreamed of soaring above Tal’Dorei, everything reduced to specks beneath him, he and his family the greatest things in the world.

 

But he wasn’t on an airship.

 

He was on a boat.

 

Why was he on a boat?

 

It was cold, it was so cold, but it wasn’t, it was hot, too hot, but he was shivering, he clutched the railing and stared out at the sea, a challenge in his eyes, _bring it, bring it, I dare you,_ but it remained silent, an impassive grey that rocked gently beneath him.

 

Pike was there.

 

Wasn’t Pike there?

 

He tried to call for her and found only a croak came out.

 

Oh, gods, no, not his voice, he’d rather lose an arm than his voice, his one weapon against the world, against the sheer bulk of history threatening to forget him, to erase the existence of one small gnome named Scanlan Shorthalt.

 

And he couldn’t find Pike.

 

He had to get out of here. He couldn’t stay here, alone on this cold (hot, too hot) ship with nothing but the ocean, the ocean had even stopped, he wasn’t rocking anymore, it had stopped moving entirely, it had gone from water to a void, ready to swallow him whole, he had to leave, he needed—

 

“Pike—“

 

“Scanlan!”

 

Scanlan opened his eyes to see Vex leaning over him with wide eyes. He blinked, disoriented; where was he? What was going on?

 

Last thing he knew, they had been on their way to Westruun, to find Pike for—

 

“Keyleth?” he croaked, then immediately coughed. Ugh, his mouth tasted like death and felt drier than the deserts of Marquet. His leg throbbed with a dull ache.

 

“She’s fine, darling,” Vex said, slowly retreating from his immediate field of vision. He turned his head to look at her, and surveyed the room.

 

It was small and generic, like pretty much every inn they had ever stayed in. He was laying on a bed far too big for him, and a handful of chairs were pulled close to the side. Currently, only one was occupied, by a still-wide-eyed Vex.

 

“We got her to Pike yesterday, and she took good care of her. She’s resting in another room, but she’s fine.”

 

Scanlan relaxed back against his pillow. Good. Everything was fine.

 

“As for _you_ —“

 

Scanlan looked back at Vex as her voice got suddenly stern, only to be interrupted as the door slammed open and Grog sauntered inside, holding the leg of some kind of fowl. He stopped short at the sight of a blinking Scanlan and immediately rounded on Vex, gesturing with the meat.

 

“What the—I was gone for _two minutes_ and he—you said you’d come find me!”

 

“Relax, Grog, he’s only been awake for a minute,” Vex said, waving a hand dismissively at him.

 

“Hi, Grog,” Scanlan said, pushing himself up to sit against the backboard. Whoa, a little woozy there.

 

“Hey, mate,” Grog said, dropping down heavily into the chair beside Vex. The wood groaned a little under the strain, but fortunately held. Scanlan kept a running tally of how many chairs and stools Grog had shattered sitting down like that. It was in the hundreds so far this month. He dropped the bird leg on the bedside table. “How was your nap?”

 

There was a slight undercurrent of tension there, but Scanlan was still too out of it to figure out why. He grinned instead to cover it. “Incredible. I feel great.”

 

Vex snorted. She still seemed entirely unimpressed. Seriously, what was up with her? Had he missed something?

 

“So, uh, what’d I miss?” he asked, as innocently as he could manage.

 

Vex cleared her throat. “Well, you’ve been asleep for a full day. We tried to wake you when we reached Westruun and couldn’t.” Her stern gaze sharpens into a glare. “So, darling, care to explain what was going on?”

 

Scanlan shrugged nonchalantly. “Oh, the thing just got my leg, is all. It was a little worse than I thought, so Grog carried me. I’m fine, really.”

 

Vex narrowed her eyes. “Well, according to Pike, the thing poisoned you, just like it did Keyleth, just not as severe. It would have been much worse if we’d waited, or if you’d kept walking on it the whole time.” She sighed and leaned back against her chair. “I feel like an asshole now for teasing you about napping.”

 

Scanlan grinned. “Well, you were a bit of an asshole.”

 

He let her half-hearted glare slide right off, reveling in it. Looking around the room again, he asked, “So, how long did you say I was out?”

 

“About a day. Grog hasn’t left your side since we got you here. He was bawling all night long.”

 

Grog jolted up straight, a look of thunderous indignation across his face. “What! I did—I was _not_. She is _lying_ , there was no crying happening, none—at—all. ‘Sides, I knew you’d be okay. Takes more’n that to do you in, eh, buddy?”

 

Scanlan couldn’t help but return Grog’s grin. His friend’s infallible faith in him (and his lack of acquaintance with the terms “worry” or “fear”) was always reassuring. He and Grog had an understanding: they were to be assumed invincible until proven otherwise. One little sick day wasn’t going to shake that.

 

“You got that right.”

 

Vex rolled her eyes and stood. “Well, I’ll go and tell the others you’re awake, then. Do you want anything, Scanlan?”

 

“Ten thousand gold and a pony.”

 

With a roll of her eyes and a last casual wave over her shoulder, Vex slipped out, leaving Scanlan and Grog alone in the room.

 

“Thanks for helping me out, Grog,” Scanlan said, after a beat of silence. Grog shrugged easily and leaned back in his chair.

 

“Ah, no worries. You know you can count on me if you ever need a nap.” He scratched awkwardly at one ear. “Be cool if you could make it maybe a little shorter, though.”

 

Scanlan gave him a crooked smile. “No promises, but I’ll do my best. I really wouldn’t wake up?”

 

Grog made a face. “No, and I’m gonna be honest, it was a little creepy. Y’kept shiverin’ and makin’ weird faces but wouldn’t wake up at all. I mean, I wasn’t scared none, obviously, but it was freakin’ out the others, y’know?”

 

Scanlan’s smile grew. “Yeah, I know.”  
  
They lapsed into companionable silence, until the door opened again to admit Percy, the twins, and Pike.

 

Percy immediately raised an eyebrow at him and asked sardonically, “Sweet dreams?”

 

“About airships,” Scanlan shot back. He saw the corner of his lips flick up, and knew he was forgiven. Good—Percy out of everyone should understand concealing the degree of his condition so as not to worry the group.

 

Vax made a bee-line for the bed and sat down in one of the unoccupied chairs. “You feeling better, Shorty?”

 

Scanlan didn’t respond immediately, glancing around at his party gathered around his bed. All this attention on him was starting to get a little uncomfortable. Well, not the _attention_ , per se, (gods know he isn’t uncomfortable with _attention_ ) but the concern emanating from his teammates was a little unnerving.

 

Nevertheless, Scanlan was an actor to the bone and a damn good one, so he put on his best grin and replied, “Absolutely. I’ll be doing backflips off Grog by tonight.”

 

Vax’s lips twitched, though he still had his brooding face on—gods, that face. It was gonna get stuck that way some time. Maybe it already had.

 

“Well, maybe just… save that one for a while, hey? You kinda scared us with this one.”

 

Scanlan waved a hand dismissively. “What, scared for me? Pah. You know better than that.”

 

Vax’s smile widened just a bit, and Scanlan savored the victory. “Even so. Just, take it easy for a bit, okay, man?”

 

Scanlan shrugged, leaning back on his crossed arms. “Well, if you insist.”

 

He immediately sprang back to attention, as Pike stepped around Vax and Grog to reach the bedside. Gods, she was beautiful, even looking exhausted with her hair hanging limply around her face and bags under her eyes, Pike was always the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

 

“How are you feeling, Scanlan?” she asked, and he felt better just hearing the sound of her voice.

 

“Much better now that you’re here,” he replied with a wink. It was honestly a little embarrassing how true that was, so he buried the sincerity under layers of flirtation. Pike rolled her eyes.

 

“Well, you should be totally better in a day or two, with plenty of rest. And we’re going to be staying in Westruun until Keyleth is better too, anyways, so all you’ll miss out on are shenanigans with Grog.”

 

“Aw, but those are my favorite kind of shenanigans.” Scanlan exchanged a brief grin with Grog, before his gaze was drawn, as always, inexorably back to Pike.

 

“I dreamed about you,” he blurted out before he realized what he was doing, and by then it was too late so he rolled with it and added a saucy wink. “You are literally the girl of my dreams, Pike.”

 

Pike smiled sweetly at him. “Well, at least you’ll always have your dreams, Scanlan.”

 

Percy’s bark of laughter from the corner drew Scanlan’s glare, and the asshole grinned back unrepentantly. A quick glance around the room showed that the rest of Vox Machina was also stifling laughter.

 

Scanlan flopped back against his pillow, a dramatic hand lain on his breast. “I give and give for this family, and this is what I get in return.”

 

Vax smiled softly and reached out to bump his knuckles against Scanlan’s shoulder. “Well, don’t give too much, Scan-man. We still need you.”

 

Scanlan snorted, dropping his hand and turning his head to look at him. “Goddamn right you do.”

 

He stifled a yawn, and Vax immediately stood. “Why don’t you get some more rest? We can bring you some dinner later.”

 

Grog’s head shot up at that. “What? But he just woke up! He’s been sleeping all day!”

 

Pike patted her friend’s knee, shaking her head. “No, Grog, Vax is right. He needs to rest to get better. The sooner he’s better, the sooner you can take him out with you.”

 

“I promise, Grog, soon as I can walk without falling over, you and me are gonna paint the town,” Scanlan said, grinning.

 

“Fuckin’ right,” Grog grunted, reluctantly getting up and belatedly grabbing his bird leg off the table. “Real soon.”

 

“Real soon,” Scanlan agreed.

 

Vax clapped Grog on the shoulder and started ushering him out of the room. “C’mon, big man, you didn’t finish your lunch.”

 

Scanlan watched them leave, then looked back at Pike, who met his gaze.

 

“Thank you, Pike,” he said, softly.

 

She smiled at him. “Yes, well, don’t do it again.”

 

He held up a hand. “Bard’s honor.”

 

Rolling her eyes, Pike patted his knee and followed Vax and Grog out the door. Scanlan watched her go.

 

Movement out of the corner of his eye made him turn to see Percy stepping over, one eyebrow raised.

 

“So, airships, huh?”

 

Scanlan shrugged. “Been thinking of names. You seen any good ones in the city?”

 

Percy smiled. “Not yet. I’ll keep an eye out.”

 

They exchanged nods, and Percy quietly left the room, touching Vex lightly on the shoulder as he went. Good old Percy. When he wasn’t emanating emo vibes in a twenty-foot radius, you could count on him not to make things weird.

 

Vex watched him for another few, quiet seconds, before quietly saying, “You can tell us next time, you know.”

 

Scanlan shrugged. “There wasn’t time to stop and rest, or argue about it.”

 

“You didn’t have to make yourself look like an asshole.”

 

“I am an asshole.”

 

Vex’s lips tugged up into a smile at that. “Well. I suppose that’s true. But you’re an asshole we rely on, darling. I’d hate to lose you to your own stupidity.”

 

“Too bad, ‘cause that’s the only way I want to go.”

 

Vex huffed a laugh, shaking her head. “Knowing this group, that’s the way we’re all likely to go.”

 

“Well, that’s why you have me.” Scanlan winked at her, and she rolled her eyes. “You can trust ol’ Scanlan to keep even you idiots out of your own fire.”

 

“Until he cripples himself,” she shot back dryly.

 

That wasn’t quite fair (it’s not like he’d gotten injured on _purpose_ ), but Scanlan was tired, and not really in the mood to argue. Instead, he just said, more seriously, “Keep an eye on them while I’m stuck here, will you?”

 

Vex’s expression softens. “Of course, dear.”

 

She shot him a wink and walked out, gently closing the door behind her.

 

Scanlan sank back against the bed with a sigh. It was strange, considering he’d only woken up maybe an hour ago, but he was already tired again. Maybe that was a good sign, and his body was fighting off whatever shit that damn demon had put in his system. He didn’t know. He wasn’t a healer.

 

Regardless, he closed his eyes.

 

Maybe this time he’d dream of airships.

**Author's Note:**

> Things that give me heart attacks: Vox Machina foregoing rest because of time limits, and Scanlan telling the party not to worry about him.
> 
> Anyways I'd like to personally thank Matt Mercer for introducing Kaylee and getting Scanlan to knock this kind of shit off. (Even though self-sacrificial Scanlan is my jam.)


End file.
